Fate of the World
by DancingInTheDark85
Summary: We all know the Army are still active, so what happens when our group run into them? What's their mission, why are they so cagey about it and why do they need Daryl Dixon's help? Set between seasons 2 and 3. Canon fic, no relationships other than what happens in the show although there's a hint of the awkward affection that is Caryl and a touch of Rickyl bromance later on.
1. Chapter 1

Fate of the World

Summary: We all know the Army are still active, so what happens when our group run into them? What's their mission, why are they so cagey about it and why do they need Daryl Dixon's help? Set between seasons 2 and 3 although some stuff we learn of Daryl's backstory in season 3 is mentioned. Canon fic, no relationships other than what happens in the show.

Authors note: First off I don't own The Walking Dead and I'm not making any money from this. This story is rated for it's language mostly because I refuse to believe that Dixon's do not use the f word. And by proxy he's probably having a negative effect on some of the others too.

I intend to put these chapters up every few days, and as I'm off work with an injury right now that is likely to happen as planned. As ever though, you guys know the drill. Reviews are motivation, the more I get the quicker I write.

I've gotta give a shout out to my wonderful boyfriend, after years of keeping my fanfic as my own guilty pleasure not only did he uncover and read my previous story, and more importantly was complimentary and not at all jealous of the attention I give Daryl, he's come up with the idea for this one.

Thanks for reading and enjoy.

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Chapter 1

"Fuck it's cold!" Maggie cursed as she was relieved of guard duty by T-Dog and came to sit down by the fire that the rest of the group were huddled around. She rubbed her hands up and down on her arms hoping that some friction through the multiple layers of jumpers and hoodies would get some blood back into them. Glenn shuffled up closer to her and wrapped an arm around her drawing her close.

Hershel sat across from them and, cuddling Beth close to him, gave her a glare. "Now don't be usin' language like that, the world may have ended but God can still hear you," he admonished.

Maggie was about to open her mouth, whether to protest or say she was sorry she wasn't yet sure but before she could say anything she was interrupted…

"Fuckin' shit! You assholes!" The shouts were coming out of the forest in a familiar voice, accompanied by the sound of feet pounding against the frostbitten ground.

Hershel rolled his eyes at the language but did not have time to say anything as Daryl came barrelling into camp, wide-eyed and brandishing his crossbow.

"There's a pack o' them coming right up on us," he said, struggling for breath. "Everyone in the cars now!" he ordered. He had a cut on his forehead that was running blood into his right eye but he didn't seem to notice.

"How many?" Glenn asked as the whole camp leapt to their feet.

"I didn't stop t' count!" Daryl said. "You think if there were only a few I'd be botherin' y'all like this?" He was angry and snipping at them but they all let it go. Truth be told over the past few months, they'd all snapped at each other and not always with good reason.

One of the tents unzipped and Rick poked his head out. "We got trouble?"

"Yeah brother, we got trouble! You got Lori an' Carl in there?"

"Jus' Lori."

"And you picked now to fix your marriage? Get 'em outta here! Where is fuckin' Carl? You need to put a leash on that kid."

Rick could have protested but he didn't; he climbed out of the tent, pulling a shirt on, and helped his pregnant wife Lori out and up to her feet.

They could see them then, coming out of the trees lit up in the firelight. No one could tell how many. The walkers staggered towards them in their droves. Daryl had been right, there were too many to count.

As soon as Rick was out of the tent he started organising everyone, ushering Lori and the others into the vehicles. Daryl had turned his back on the group to face the woods and began shooting arrows into the nearest walkers' faces. Without looking he felt T-Dog's presence come up beside him and then there was a sharp crack of his pistol, too many walkers to care about being quiet.

"Where's Carl?" Lori shouted, panicked, above the noise of people rushing and the oncoming walkers.

"Lori, please get in the car," Rick was pleading with the woman. "Carol will you take her?" He handed the woman over into the arms of Carol who steered her towards the cars. All the others had gotten in now and were just waiting for Rick, Daryl and T-Dog. Glenn, Hershel and Carol were behind the wheels of the three vehicles.

"Come on!" Glenn shouted. "We gotta go!"

"Carl!" Rick shouted into the woodlands, "Carl!"

"I'll get him," Daryl said. "Go!"

"He's my son!" Rick hissed at the other man.

"And you need to get the group out of here," Daryl argued. "Go, I'll get him."

Rick stared at the other man a moment. "Bring him back," he said, a lump in his throat. He gave Daryl's arm a quick squeeze and then ran to the awaiting vehicles. "Come on T, we gotta go." T-Dog gave Daryl a look but followed suit. They were soon in the cars and speeding away.

Daryl, now alone, focused his attention on the walkers coming out of the woods. He shot a few more arrows but knew he couldn't keep this up. He turned and ran for his brother's motorcycle, leaping on it and gunning the engine.

"Carl!" He shouted over and over. "Carl! Where are you, you little bastard?" He pulled away from the camp and off into the forest a little ways. Carl had to be in the other direction to the walkers he figured or he would have come running back to camp. There was of course another possibility which was that he would not be running anywhere ever again, but Daryl couldn't let himself think like that.

"Carl!" He kept yelling until his voice became hoarse. There was a stream not far away he remembered, so he pointed his motorbike in its direction and navigated through the trees.

Eventually one of his calls was answered. "Daryl?" came the high pitched yell, the boy's voice not quite broken yet.

"I'm here kid," Daryl replied. "Now get your ass over here."

The young boy ran out of the woods into the beams of the bike's headlights. He looked scared although he was trying to hide it.

"Get on." Daryl spun the bike round so he could get on it. Carl ran up to the bike and then looked at it as if he wasn't sure how he would get on the back.

"Jus' swing your leg over, we gotta go," Daryl said and the boy did as he was told although he struggled with the height. "Hold on to me tight," Daryl demanded and he did, slinging his arms around Daryl's chest. Once Daryl was sure he was holding on he revved the accelerator and off they went, blasting through the trees as though the bike was built for off-roading. He felt Carl hold onto him even tighter and push his body in close to stop himself from falling off. He was tense though and trying to counter, leaning his body in the opposite way to Daryl and the bike. Had he been bigger Daryl would have worried about the effect it would have on his riding but right now there was no time for tuition in riding pillion.

They shot back out of the forest just beside the camp. The firepit was still burning, surrounded by their tents but the whole area was full of walkers. Daryl pulled a pistol out of the belt of his jeans and started taking shots to navigate through the swarm of bodies. He was concentrating on the creatures in front of him and was barely aware of anything else but then he felt Carl release his grip with one arm and then before he had chance to register what that meant he was deafened with a gunshot held right by his ear.

He cursed aloud at the pain it brought but also noticed that a walker fell because of it, hit right between the eyes.

"Good shot, kid," he said over the ringing in his ears. He manoeuvred the bike through the walkers and out onto the highway. Carl kept shooting and did a good job of helping to clear a path, although every time a shot came close to Daryl's ear it made him want to lash out and elbow the damn kid off the back of the bike.

It got easier once they were on the smooth blacktop of the highway, Daryl was able to open the engine up and really pull out, leaving the walkers to roam their abandoned camp. Once they were free of the walkers he felt Carl at his back holster his weapon and cling on to Daryl again for dear life. They were speeding along now so Daryl guessed he couldn't blame the kid but if he was going to ride with him again he needed to learn. Daryl slowed a bit so they could hear each other over the wind whipping their words away.

"Kid, you gotta relax!" he growled. "You have to move with my body, if I lean left you lean left."

"Feels like I'll fall off," Carl muttered. Daryl could only just hear him over the ringing in his ear.

"Do you think I'd risk my life getting your sorry ass outta there jus' to let you fall off my damn bike? If you don't do as I say we will both fall off and you can explain to your dad how you got crushed under it!" Daryl knew he was being harsh but he wasn't in the mood to baby-sit. He sighed, releasing some of his anger. "Just relax okay and enjoy the ride."

Daryl sped up again, watching the road ahead but feeling Carl shift on the back. He was still really tense and gripping Daryl so tightly round the waist he wouldn't be surprised if he was left with bruising. He rolled his eyes but let it go; arguing with the kid was only going to make his anger worse.

Eventually he could see three sets of taillights up ahead and knew he'd caught up to them. The three cars were parked up across the road waiting for them but with their engines still running should they need a quick getaway. Daryl drove up to the red truck and pulled up at the passenger's window. Rick was in the passenger seat, Carol driving with Lori in the back.

"Oh my God, Carl!" Lori exclaimed and threw the door open, jumping out and grabbing him in a hug. Carl slipped off the bike awkwardly and returned the gesture albeit a little reluctantly. Daryl wondered if anyone else had noticed just how much the kid was avoiding his parents these days.

"Thank you, Daryl," Rick said in that way he had of conveying his most heart-felt thanks.

Carol leaned over to the passenger side to take a good look at him. "Your ear is bleeding," she said, concerned.

Daryl reached a hand up to check his right ear and it came back sticky with blood. "Can't hear nuthin' in it neither. Rick, your boy may be a good shot but he needs to learn not to be crackin' that pistol off right next to someone's ear."

"You need to get Hershel to look at it," Rick said, concerned, guilt washing over his face at what his son had unwittingly done.

"When we stop," Daryl conceded. "Right now I think we need to put a few more miles between us and the camp. Here ain't a good place."

Rick nodded. "Do you wanna swap? I could take the bike if you're tired."

"Nah, the ride'll do me good," Daryl said gruffly. Now that Carl had gotten off the bike and climbed into the back seat of the truck with his mother, Daryl gave Rick a curt nod and pulled away to the front of the group, leading them on into the night.

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To be continued...

Please review ;-)


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: Thanks to TheChildlikeAlchemist for my first review. As she was rude about my apostrophes I made her suffer and sent her the whole lot for correction. It came back covered in green highlighter so now any mistakes are hers not mine ;-) Chapter 1 has been corrected too.

Thanks also to those who are reading or favouriting this, please drop me a line and let me know what you think.

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Chapter 2

As he rode he tried not to think about his ear but the less he tried to think about it the more he ended up worrying. His dad had been deaf in one ear, a result of a construction accident before Daryl had been born. The boys had used it to their advantage when they were young; found it much easier to sneak out of the house, especially when the tv was on and all their father's attention was on sports. Here though, in this world, it would be a problem. He needed his hearing to hunt, to listen for the smallest of movements and be able to distinguish them and pinpoint where they were. And that didn't even begin to take into account the danger he would be in if he couldn't hear walkers sneaking up on him.

Still, there was nothing he could do about it now. He had joked before about being 'zen' but the reality of his life so far had taught him that some things just happened that you couldn't change. There were some things worth getting angry about, Carl's penchant for wandering off and getting into trouble for example, particularly as he didn't seem to be learning from his mistakes. But there were other things, like the world ending, his mother's fiery death or the scars on his back that couldn't be helped. It was things like that that the rest of the group were so good at getting angry about. Daryl didn't get it, what was done was done and no amount of bitching about it was going to change things. He took a deep breath and felt the breeze in his hair. They were all alive and that was what mattered, everything else they would just have to figure out along the way.

He drove until his eyelids were beginning to droop and his arms ached with the vibrations of the bike. There wasn't anywhere they'd seen that he would choose to make a camp, but at least here they had come to a patch of more open land. At least they'd be able to see the walkers coming. He pulled up and the other vehicles pulled up behind him. Rick was getting out of the truck as Daryl lowered the kickstand. Carol got out too and went over to Daryl, clasping his face gently between her hands and giving him a long look, trying to read him. "I'm alright," he whispered and pulled himself out of her grip.

"We all need some rest," Rick said, also looking hard at the other man, searching his face for signs of pain or tiredness. Daryl guessed he could probably see both but he was too worn out to try and hide it. "I'll take first watch," Rick offered. "You should have Hershel look at your ear and then get some rest."

Daryl thought for a minute about protesting; he didn't need the sheriff looking after him the way the others did, but in the end he just nodded lamely and shuffled over to Hershel's vehicle, too tired to do anything else. When he got to Hershel's vehicle, T-Dog moved out of the back seat and ushered Daryl inside. Hershel climbed in after him with his medical kit and began his examination.

T-Dog and Beth sat in the front pretending not to listen as Hershel saw to his patient.

"How did it happen?"

"That damn fool kid fired his gun right in my ear."

"What's the pain like?"

"Pretty bad," he mumbled, not wanting to admit to weakness. "Better than when it first happened."

"And your hearing?"

"Still ringing, can't hear nuthin' but."

"Okay..." Hershel peered inside his ear with one of those magnifying pen light things. "It's perforated your eardrum. The good news is that they usually heal on their own, you'll have to keep it a hell of a lot cleaner than it is now to prevent infection but if we can avoid that then you should be alright."

"What about my hearing, Doc?" Daryl asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Hershel gave him a look that Daryl was struggling to read. "It's a bad tear, when the perforations are a result of explosions they usually are. There is a chance that there will be complications such as hearing loss, which is why keeping it clean and free of infection is so important. You look after it though for the next few months, keep it clean and dry and with any luck you will be fine."

Daryl released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "You jus' taken a weight off my mind, Doc."

"Let me clean it, and put a stitch or two in that cut on your forehead and then I'll let you get some rest, you look beat."

Daryl just nodded and let the older man conduct his ministrations. He didn't even flinch when Hershel threaded the needle through his skin, he just laid back and closed his eyes and even managed to fall partly asleep. He was dozing, barely aware of the thread pulling tight in his skin when he heard a small voice coming from the front of the vehicle.

"How is he?"

Daryl smiled, Carol was always there, always caring. It was an odd feeling, having someone care, but it was a feeling he could get used to. He drifted off to sleep listening to the soft voices of Carol and Hershel, just thankful that he could hear anything at all.

Daryl woke up cold. Freezing actually. He opened his eyes and found himself lying along the backseat of Hershel's car. He could see his breath in the air and frost on the windows. They had no blankets, he realised. They'd all been left in the tents, the whole lot now gone. He sat up with a groan and felt all the blood rush to his head. His head was pounding and his ear still hurt. He reached a hand up to it tentatively and found it was covered with a gauze pad. He rolled his eyes. He was surprised they didn't stick a plastic cone round his neck, they obviously didn't believe he could keep it clean by himself.

He stretched out and felt stiff muscles pop and crack. He had never felt so old as he did the last few months, all those old aches and injuries were coming back full force in the cold weather. He breathed out and could see his breath misting, his feet were numb in his worn boots and had been for days. He had woken up grumpy, again, didn't fancy making nice with the rest of the group but he could smell a fire nearby and he remembered they had kept some of that deer in the back of his truck. His stomach grumbled and his need for warmth and food forced him to get up and seek out both.

The wagons were circled, or at least the vehicles were, with a small fire in the middle. The small group were stood around it warming their hands by the flames. Damp wood popped and crackled as it dried out. Damp wood always smoked a lot but it had been weeks since they found good dry firewood. All the pots and pans had been abandoned but someone had cut up pieces of venison and skewered them on sticks which had then been planted in the ground so that they hovered over the flames. Daryl cast a critical eye on the fire which Glenn was tending to. All things considered, the city boy hadn't done badly.

"'Morning, Sleepyhead," Carol greeted when she saw him. "How are you feeling?"

"You should have woken me up," Daryl said.

"We figured you needed the sleep," Rick said.

"I ain't needin' no mollycoddlin'," Daryl said, frowning. Frowning made the stitches in his forehead pull and made him want to gasp. He didn't though, refusing to let them see he was hurting.

"Well it isn't like we had a camp to pack away. You know we could put the bike on the flat-bed and you could ride with us today if you wanted."

"Sounds like mollycoddlin' t' me." Daryl said, "I'm fine."

"Okay then," Rick shrugged, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "We were just discussing our next plan. Do we go back for our things hoping the herd has moved on or do we try for another town to get more stuff?"

The whole group had obviously expressed their opinions already as they were now all looking at Daryl for his answer. Daryl hated having so many eyes on him at once, especially when they were looking for a decision. He shrugged like his opinion didn't count for nothing anyway. "It's a long way back, brother. We might find our cookin' stuff an' some clothes an' shit but our tents will be crushed by the herd an' I left a few too many crossbow bolts in walker's heads las' coupla days. We figure out where we are?"

Rick nodded and pulled a map from his pocket. It had been folded to show the highway they had come off of last night. He passed it to Daryl, pointing at where he believed them to be and folded his arms across his chest waiting for the hunter to inspect it.

"See this here?" Daryl said after a moment, pointing to a small town on the map and showing it to Rick. "This here is a small town, it's off the highway so perhaps fewer people will have been there already, but it's right on the edge of the backwoods. Bet they have a camping store there."

Rick nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said, folding the map away and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Daryl gave him a look. It was one of the few times he'd bothered to have an opinion and he was shocked that he'd been listened to. What was more surprising was that the whole group seemed to accept it; discussion turned back to whether the meat was cooked.

Daryl stood a bit away from the others, wanting the heat of the fire but not wanting everyone to know how badly he needed it. He surveyed the group, they all looked as cold and as miserable as he felt. A few months ago they would've all been bitching about how badly they'd slept, how they were desperate for a hot shower or one of those fancy latte coffee things, not any more. They'd all come to accept whatever was thrown at them these days, it was a lot less annoying, but their acceptance of their situation didn't seem to be making them any happier. It was like their group was losing the will to fight; they talked less, certainly smiled less, just gritted their teeth and got on with it but with an air of reluctance, like one day they may just give up and not bother. Daryl certainly knew how that felt, but funnily enough not as much as he used to.

They ate the venison in almost silence, only half a skewer of meat each, each sucking at the meat greedily, licking the juices off their fingers. It was all gone far too soon and every single one of them was still left hungry. When they were done they wordlessly went to their respective cars and got ready to get going. They had to get a move on, they had a busy day ahead and there was no point discussing it further.

Daryl got back on his motorbike, the seat damp and soaking into his already cold jeans and lead the other vehicles out, hoping he'd made the right call.

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	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys thanks for reviewing, favouriting, following or just reading. Drop me a line and let me know what you think.

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Chapter 3

They drove for hours without stopping, there was no reason to stop, except for the few minutes to change drivers every few hours. It had started raining again and it was icy cold. Daryl, out on the bike, was soaked to the skin, large water droplets dripping off his too-long hair and dripping onto his poncho which was already soaked through and was unable to absorb any more water. Wrapped up in their own miseries they'd obviously forgotten about him as no one had stopped to suggest he stow his bike and ride in the truck, his truck, the rest of the way and Daryl would be damned before he asked them to help him out.

Eventually though he could see it up ahead in the driving rain, the road marker that welcomed them to town. Rick pulled up the truck and the others followed suit. Windows were wound down and a discussion was had from the dry of their cars. Daryl noticed Carol looking at him in pity at his drowned rat appearance but he ignored her.

"We need a scouting party," Rick said. "There ain't no sense in all going ahead when we don't know what we are running into. Daryl, Glenn, we'll take the truck, bring back what we can find. The rest of you stay here, if you run into trouble retreat back to that truckstop a few miles out, we'll find you there."

Daryl nodded as did Glenn. Not long ago, Rick had asked for volunteers for the runs into town. These days it was orders, the usual suspects would go and the rest left behind. It made sense. Daryl shrugged but he could see what Rick failed to notice, that certain members of the group bristled at being left behind again.

They all had a swap round so that Lori, Carl and Carol were in the car with Maggie and the three scouts were all in the front of the truck. Maggie kissed Glenn goodbye and then they were off without another word.

Rick, Glenn and Daryl drove in silence through the town. It was small with one main street and only a few shops on it. There were a few walkers but nothing that they were too concerned about. Eventually as they got to the end of main street they found what they were looking for: 'Bob's Hunting Supplies'. It did not look promising.

The store front was small with a big display window that had been smashed in at some point. There were two figures shuffling about in the dimly lit store inside.

Rick sighed, "Someone's been here already."

Glenn gave a grim smile. "We should look anyway."

They parked up and climbed out of the car into the pouring rain. Daryl swung his crossbow from his back to nestle the butt of it into his shoulder, finger resting lightly on the trigger. He strode up to the store and took a long-legged step up into the display through the broken window, broken glass crunching under his boots. The walkers turned to look at him but he quickly shot the first one and reloaded, taking the second one out with lazy precision. Another walker, an old man in dungarees and bare feet, shuffled through from the back and he took that one down too. The room cleared he hopped down off the display and stalked through to the other rooms. The place was as small on the inside as it looked on the outside and there was no one else there. He shouted "Clear!" and went back to the others. Glenn had followed him inside while Rick stood at the entrance keeping watch on the street.

"See anything?" Glenn asked as he looked round the room. The whole lot had been gutted, there was nothing left as far as they could see, just a few items were left on the shelves, a couple of camping stoves, waders for fishing in, random things like bird call whistles and camouflage webbing. No weapons, no ammo, no tents or sleeping bags or clothes.

"The stockroom is back there, it's as empty as in here," Daryl confessed, wrenching his arrows from the heads of his kills and wiping them off on his filthy jeans. They climbed back out and onto the street.

"No luck?" Rick asked.

"It's been completely cleared out," Glenn said dejectedly.

"Shit!" Rick swore uncharacteristically as he ran a hand through his hair. His shoulders were sagging with the weight of it.

"We need to check the houses," Daryl said. The other two nodded and followed as the hunter strode off to the nearest house. The door was already ajar. Daryl nearly passed on it to go to another one and then realised they all had been left with their doors open, it wasn't a good sign. So much for thinking this a remote town. Daryl strode up to the front of the house, crossbow raised. Rick was right behind him knife at the ready. Glenn, looking somewhat nervous, was bringing up the rear, keeping an eye on the street.

Rick nodded at Daryl before he toed the door open. It swung back with an aged creak and Daryl was the first one in. He swung back and forth peering into each room as he and Rick took half the house each. Daryl's first room was the kitchen, there was nothing in there. He didn't have time to check for anything as they had to clear the house first but he could see at first glance that it had been emptied, all the cupboards had been flung open and left bare. Daryl shook his head, shouted 'clear' and then moved on to the next room. Rick had taken the upstairs so Daryl swung round and headed on into the large lounge. He swung the door open and stepped through glancing round and not seeing anything out of place. He was about to shout 'clear' and move on when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Fuck!" he cursed and swung round, staggering back and across the room until his back collided with the far wall. The walker who had grabbed him shuffled through the doorway dressed in blood-drenched army fatigues. When he'd been bit, the walkers had ripped through the soldier's neck and dead flesh hung ragged from it now. Daryl raised his crossbow and took him out. He collapsed to the floor, blocking the doorway. There were more in his place though, a woman in a dressing gown, the gown having fallen open and revealing her flabby belly and grimy underwear. Behind her another male in boxers. Daryl reloaded quickly and shot the woman, but the man was through the door now and was being followed by others.

He could hear the others shouting, Glenn sounded like he was in trouble outside too. The crossbow was going to be too slow to reload, so Daryl abandoned it in favour of his bowie knife. He stabbed out at the first one and felt his knife slide up to the hilt in the softened skull. Wrenching it out he went for another and another, getting himself covered up to his elbow in blood and brains, spattering his face and his already wet clothes. There were so many of them they seemed never-ending and they were driving him back. Pressed into the wall he was surrounded, fighting desperately kicking and shoving and slashing with his knife.

And then there was a yell, and some of the walkers fell away; Glenn stood behind them with a bloodied baseball bat. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief but didn't have time to relax, together they dispatched the last of them. Glenn offered Daryl a hand as he stepped over the pile of dead walkers. Daryl looked at it but didn't take it.

"Rick okay?" Daryl asked.

And then Rick appeared in the doorway, blood-spattered himself. "I'm good. But I think we should get out of here."

"Not disagreein' with yer there," Daryl said.

"What happened?" Glenn asked Daryl. "I've never seen them sneak up on you before."

"Couldn't hear them," he replied, waving at his bandaged ear. "Still got ringin' in my ear."

"Dude!" Glenn sighed.

"Thanks for savin' my ass by the way," Daryl said.

They hurried back out to the car, the noise of the fight had attracted others and there were more coming out of the other houses. They rushed to the truck and climbed inside, Rick, driving as usual, started the engine and they took off. There was a walker stood in front of them in the street, Rick swerved to get out of the way but clipped him anyway and rolled the truck right over him. The three men braced themselves at the bump and it looked for a moment like the truck was going to flip but then it righted itself and they were off, bouncing over potholes as they took the old roads far too fast.

"Did you notice something about those walkers?" Rick said as they got away.

"That they seemed more pissed than normal?" Glenn quipped.

"There were a lot of soldiers," Daryl said quietly, gazing out of the window. He was concerned. No one had ever snuck up on him before, this ear thing was going to be even more of a problem than he thought.

"What do you think that means?" Glenn said. "Has the National Guard come through? Are we near a barracks?"

"We ain't near no barracks," Daryl said, still refusing to take his gaze from the window.

"We don't know what it means yet. The fact that a lot of them have become walkers concerns me," Rick said grimly. "Daryl, are you gonna be okay, I mean if your hearin's…"

Daryl turned and glared at him then with a fierceness that hadn't been that apparent in recent months. "I'm fine. You should start worryin' about them that's yours. You should start worryin' more about Carl," Daryl spat.

"Low blow man, he is looking after him," Glenn said, glaring at the older man.

"No," Rick sighed and shook his head. "He's right. If I'd been payin' more attention to my son then he wouldn't have needed rescuing and Daryl wouldn't have been hurt. I'm sorry."

"We are all in this together now man, we are all responsible," Glenn said.

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to looking out the window, he couldn't be doing with this heart-felt bullshit. It was all so incredibly hypocritical as far as he could see, they'd be all brothers-in-arms one minute but Daryl had no doubt that if occasion called for it then there were certain people in the group that would be thrown to the wolves, Merle was, Otis, Randall, hell he even suspected Andrea and he couldn't see how he would be any different. Sure, while he could catch their dinner he'd be of some use, but if the problem with his ear became permanent, well he just figured he would take off before he became walker-bait.

Still, even without half his hearing he managed to be the most observant. Rick turned a corner on the winding road and Daryl caught a glimpse of something through the trees. "Hold up," he warned, reaching across Glenn to grab Rick's arm.

"What is it?" Rick asked in a low voice, bringing the truck to a stop.

Daryl pointed through the trees. "The road bends round again and goes behind there. See, through those trees? That's where we left the others."

The other two men looked carefully, not quite sure what they were supposed to be looking for, but then they saw it.

"Is that a tank?" Rick whispered.

Daryl nodded, "Think there's two."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"We should leave the car here and scout it out on foot," Rick suggested. The others both just nodded their agreement. Rick pulled the car over into the trees so it was less visible and they all got out. Each readied their weapons, discarding melee weapons for long distance. On Rick's nod they advanced forward, keeping low, creeping through the trees. Rick lead with the other two flanking off.

It reminded Daryl of playing soldiers with Merle in the woods beyond their house, back when he was really little and Merle still felt like ordering him around. Merle would always be the sergeant and Daryl would have to be the private who did what he was told. He was good at it though, creeping through the wood silently while Merle tramped up ahead. It didn't matter that Merle would never take it seriously though, even at the age of five Daryl knew his brother was far too old to be playing these games and was only humouring the younger boy to keep them both entertained.

Now though, it did matter and Daryl inwardly cringed at the sound the other two were making. There was no way they were going to sneak up on soldiers making that racket. As they got further through the trees they could clearly see two tanks in desert camouflage paint. The lack of a new paint job told Daryl they weren't that bothered about being seen in this world. They weren't being overly quiet either. Daryl counted eight soldiers, they all had guns. He guessed that the tanks held more so he knew he likely had to have his eyes peeled for more. In between the two tanks were two cars and his bike. T-Dog, Maggie and Hershel were out of the cars gesturing to one of the men. Maggie was holding a rifle, loosely but still ready to be put to use if needed, sensible girl, but the others weren't. In fact they didn't even look that worried. The wind was carrying their words away but Daryl could hear Hershel talking to the soldier about waiting.

Glenn snapped a particularly loud twig underfoot as they edged closer and that was it, all the soldiers turned, rifles raised in their direction. Daryl, instinctively ducked down further, fairly sure that he hadn't been seen but Rick and Glenn had given it away. It was come out or be shot at mistaken for a walker so Rick stood up and strode forward. Glenn followed and so Daryl knew there was no longer any point in hiding. He rolled his eyes and took Rick's lead, still, he refused to lower his crossbow and stood by the treeline. The one that had been talking to Hershel had sergeants stripes on so that was who he chose to train his sights on.

"What's happening here?" Rick asked Hershel.

"These gentlemen here were passing through. I was hoping for some information, maybe a place to stay." He lowered his voice; "Lori's gonna need some place to have that baby," he reasoned.

Rick nodded, it had clearly been on his mind for a while too. He turned to the sergeant and held out his hand. "I'm Rick," he volunteered.

The sergeant, a grizzled thick-set dark-skinned man with prematurely greying hair took his hand and shook it. "Sergeant Adewale," he replied in a gently accented voice. With a nod, his soldiers lowered their weapons. Daryl kept his up. "I was just offering your group here a warm bed for the night. You look to be in pretty bad shape."

Rick nodded with a smile, "Our camp was overrun last night, we lost all our supplies. What are you guys doing out here?"

"Looking for supplies, the army stopped being able to send us any a long time ago. We are having to scavenge for our dinner same as anyone else. Not met too many more folks out on the road that weren't already turned."

"We've been lucky. But there were others… our group isn't was it used to be."

"Anyone who's survived this long is running on a lot more than luck. You lead people before? Military?"

"Sheriff's deputy," Rick explained. "Trust me it's not something to prepare you for this."

The sergeant held out his arms and gestured around, "What? For the dead walking around? Man, nothing is going to prepare you for this!"

Rick almost laughed. Daryl watched the conversation intensely, he wasn't happy. This seemed too easy, Rick had fallen instantly at ease with this man and his gun-toting friends. Daryl wasn't sure if it was Rick's unwavering belief in the authorities or if he was just desperate and jumping at anything offered but it didn't feel right.

"Looks like we were lucky you ran into us." Rick said, "So, you've got a camp?"

Adewale nodded, "A few miles away. It's not much but you guys look like you could use all the help you could get."

Rick glanced around at the rest of his group who all seemed to be waiting expectantly for the verdict but then his eyes settled on Daryl who knew he must have been wearing a face like thunder. "I need to discuss this with my group."

The sergeant and his men stepped back to allow them to talk. Glenn and Daryl walked over to join Rick and the others at the cars.

"I think we need to do this," Rick said in a hushed voice. It made his position perfectly clear and Daryl had to wonder whether it was even worth a debate now Rick had made up his mind.

"They've shown no aggression to us." Hershel said, "And we are suffering like this."

Lori was in the front seat and nodded, "I think we are going to have to give it a try. We are going to die out here in the cold and I can't give birth to this baby on the road."

"Are we sure?" Glenn said nervously, "How do we know we can trust them?"

"I refuse to believe that there aren't other good people left in the world," Hershel replied.

Daryl said nothing, although he could feel Rick's eyes boring into him as he waited for his opinion. He could already tell that his opinion wouldn't be worth shit though, once those three had spoken it didn't really matter that he and Glenn had reservations; they would be overruled. Only a few months ago and he would have walked off and left them to their fate but now he felt he couldn't, the reasons for that he was unwilling to analyse. The only course open to him now would to be follow along at a safe distance and keep his eyes open.

"Anyone else got an opinion?" Rick asked, almost aggressively.

They all shook their heads and Carl just muttered "I'm cold."

"Fine." Rick nodded and turned back round to the sergeant. "We'll follow you."

The sergeant shook his head. "I can't have that. You guys take the tanks, my men will drive your cars. We can't have you knowing where our camp is, you understand that right?"

"Woah, wait!" Daryl couldn't keep his reservations to himself any longer, "You ain't blindfoldin' and kidnappin' us…"

"I'm not talking about blindfolds, just ride in the tank so we can keep some sort of security. We have only just met you."

"Daryl, it's not like we've got anything worth stealing," Rick said.

"We got vehicles worth stealin'," Daryl pointed out. "An' if you want my bow you're gonna have to pry it outta my cold, dead walker fingers!"

"Okay okay," the sergeant chuckled. "You can keep your weapons, but we are helping you out here so you may want to consider that when choosing to abide by a few of our rules."

"Don't need no helpin'," Daryl muttered but no one commented on it.

The groups got out of the cars and did as instructed, climbing into the tanks. It took Lori a huge effort to climb up, she was big now, and T-Dog and Carol struggled with getting her up and lowered in. Daryl stood back, watching a pair of soldiers strap his motorbike into the back of the truck which Rick had told them about hidden round the corner.

Rick came over to him and whispered, "We need to do this. They are offering us everything we need right now."

Daryl glared at Rick. "We coulda found shit. We woulda been able to keep goin'."

"Look at them," Rick hissed indicating the group, Lori struggling to get up and into the tank, supported by a weary T-Dog and Carol who looked about ready to fall over. Hershel was stiff and struggling to climb up, too many nights sleeping on hard ground were effecting his aging bones. Glenn and Maggie held each other tightly, Maggie's head resting on Glenn's shoulder. Beth rubbed her arms to try and get some feeling back into them, her hands were tinged with blue. And Carl, who should have been excited about getting to ride in a tank could barely keep his eyes open. "We've got nothing, the weather's only getting colder…" Rick sighed. "They're struggling, losing hope."

"How can you trust them?" Daryl said.

"I have no choice."

"You always have a choice, I could go out again, build a fire, get something to eat…"

"You're runnin' yourself into the ground for us, Daryl. We can all see it."

"Yeah well, better to run myself into the ground than to have someone else shoot me there."

"We'll be on our guard. I'm just talking about not looking a gift horse in the mouth here. We need what they're offerin'."

Daryl could see that he wasn't gonna win and so left it. The others were waiting for them patiently. Glenn and the Greenes had gotten into one tank while Rick followed Lori, Carl and T-Dog into the lead tank. Carol was also stood on the lead tank waiting for him, as though she was worried he'd change his mind and go off on his own.

"You joining us?" she said. She looked hopeful, like she wanted Daryl on their tank, but Daryl shook his head.

"Think that one's a bit too crowded," he replied, "I'll be better off in the other." He knew she probably took his reaction to be sulking because of his argument with Rick but the truth was their tank had most of the fighters on it. Glenn had gotten a lot better and Maggie was surprisingly handy with a gun but he doubted if things changed that either of them could defend themselves against humans.

He trudged up to the second tank, ignoring Carol's eyes boring into the back of his head and climbing in. He didn't want Rick to be right but his body ached and his head hurt and it was harder than it should have been to get up. He dropped down into the tank to the surprise of the Greenes who'd clearly expected him to take Rick and Carol's tank. He sat down, squeezing between Hershel and a stack of crates full of ammo and rested his back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"We'll be alright, Daryl," Hershel said, sat next to him.

Daryl just nodded. Closing his eyes may have made it look like he didn't care but he was concentrating. He blocked out the sounds of Hershel talking with the soldiers, the ringing in his ears was still too loud anyway, tried to dampen down the rising panic of claustrophobia and he focused on the movements, estimating how fast the tank was going, committing the occasional left and right turn to memory. At one point he felt the tank dip down a slope and the ride got bumpier from then on. They were off-roading, which would make back-tracking to the highway easy, even if they had more heavy rain there should be some telltale signs left behind.

* * *

Authors Note: Thanks to all of those reading this, especially what evil lurks, Pantherbabe4ever and TheChildlikeAlchemist for their reviews. When I started posting on here again I decided that I wouldn't care about how many reviews I got and whether anybody liked it, after all I am writing because I enjoy the escape. Having said that, it's almost impossible to do that and I think we probably all get caught up in what people think, so please drop me a line because as much as I tell myself I don't care I actually do. ;-)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They were travelling for about thirty minutes before grinding to a halt. The soldier who was driving climbed out of their seat and announced that they had arrived. The survivors got up stiffly and climbed up the rungs to escape the crowded vehicle. As soon as the tank stopped, Daryl had leapt to his feet to be the first one out. Beth had stood too and looked ready to race him but Hershel grabbed her hand allowing the hunter to go first. Hershel's thoughtfulness wasn't lost on Daryl but it made him nervous, the man was far too good at reading him. Since the vet had patched him up after being shot and impaled by his own arrow he had been a lot more gentle and accommodating with Daryl. Daryl knew he had to have seen the scars that littered his body, the ones he'd thus far managed to keep hidden from everyone else, and he also knew that the older man had not said anything to anyone about them, but it was like the man could see all the little chinks in his armour now. His feeling on it swung wildly between gratefulness and deep irritation, sometimes both at the same time.

Now though, he was just happy to be out of that coffin-on-caterpillar-treads. He stood on the roof of the tank and surveyed where they had been brought to. It was a smaller camp than expected, a mismatched selection of tents, some army issue, some from a camping store surrounded by a large chain link fence. The two tanks had been parked up next to a couple of jeeps, one of which was being worked on by a pair of guys in fatigues. Smoke was coming from a fire pit in the centre, where a few more men were cooking something in a big pot. There was a large tent in the far corner which appeared to be a hive of activity with people striding in and out. Daryl figured it was their command centre, especially when a man came out with thinning hair and stern features who looked like he had a stick jammed where the sun don't shine. Daryl had an instinctive loathing for people with an over-inflated sense of importance, in fact his encounters with them usually ended with a fist fight. The man was striding over to them with a face like thunder. Daryl stepped down and to the back of the group, he'd let Rick and Hershel do the talking, otherwise his smart mouth would likely get them into further trouble.

He was relieved to see their vehicles be brought up alongside the tanks and wondered if he should herd everyone into them before this angry-looking man made it across the camp.

The sergeant walked up to meet the man and saluted. The survivors hung back, all on edge. The two military men talked in hushed tones. There was no way that Daryl could hear what was being said right now, although normally his hearing was first-rate. The discussion looked a little heated but eventually the angry man turned to them and his featured had softened just a little.

He strode over to Rick and offered his hand and Rick shook it, gratitude written all over his face, a little too prematurely, Daryl guessed.

"Good afternoon, I am Major Sanders, and right now I run this camp. My sergeant tells me that he found you out on the highway."

"That's right. Our camp was overrun by walkers two days ago, we were looking for more supplies but we've not had much luck," Rick confessed. "We've lost all our tents and bedding and cooking equipment."

"And one of your group is pregnant is that right?"

"My wife, Sir, yes," Rick nodded.

"We are a small military camp. We are not equipped to deal with survivors…" the major started, Rick's head hung low, unable to hide his defeat. "But tonight is going to be cold and I cannot turn away children and pregnant women. My sergeant will get you sorted with bedding and somewhere to sleep for tonight. It looks like you all need your rest, we will discuss this again in the morning."

Rick and the rest of his group sighed in relief. "Thank you Sir." He shook his hand again, "You don't know how much that means to us."

The major nodded and strode back off to the command tent.

"This way," the sergeant said. "I'll get you somewhere to stay."

A few hours later and the group were laying down their bedding side by side on the floor of one of the larger tents. There was a shower tent set up too with solar powered shower units. The showers were open plan so the women had gone first and the men were waiting their turn. Finally the women came back, hair wrapped in towels and smelling of soap. They still had their dirty clothes on, they'd be wearing those until they found new ones, but at least they'd rid themselves of some of the grime. The men all got up, eager for a shower, Rick threw Daryl a towel from the pile that had been left for them. "Are you coming or what?"

"I'll shower in a bit," Daryl said, catching the towel and plonking it on his bedroll.

"He likes staying stinky," Glenn whispered to Carl conspiratorially.

"Nah, more like he wants some quality time with himself," Carl replied with a wink.

"Carl!" Lori admonished angrily.

"What?" Carl snapped back. "Daryl doesn't care do you Daryl?"

"I think you should keep your twelve year old one-track-mind to yerself," said Daryl. "Don't you know your mama ain't wantin' to hear it?" He ignored the others and strode out of the tent.

It wasn't a bad idea, Daryl mused on Carl's assumptions. They'd been in their little tight-knit group for a little too long now and he was overdue some privacy, might relieve a little of the tension he was feeling too. But that wasn't why he was holding off on the shower, he'd done well hiding his body from the rest of the group and wasn't about to let them all have an eyeful now. And it was getting dark. There were things he wanted to take a look at before the daylight went.

He strode off around the perimeter, tugging at the sections of the fence that were linked together, to test their strength. Once he'd done a once round he stood by the fence staring off into the surrounding forest. They were in a field, the forest that they had come through on one side and stretches of what had once been cotton fields on the other. The land was flat and walker-free, you'd have been able to see them a mile off if there were any out there, it was the forest that they'd be hiding if their were any, but it was a long way from any towns so any walkers out here would be a minimum. There were guards at points along the fence too, Daryl had to admit this was the most secure set up they'd seen.

He kept gazing into the forest though as he had just so happened to have picked a spot to stand near the command tent. He was straining to hear what was going on inside though. He felt someone come up beside him and knew who it would be.

"I know you have your reservations," the sergeant said in a soft tone. "I only mean to help you."

Daryl nodded, not looking away from the forest. "We met enough people out here to make our lack of trust justified."

"I understand that, we have too. But we are the authorities, not some backwoods redneck thieves."

Daryl bristled at the choice of words, after all he had 'backwoods redneck' stamped all over him.

The sergeant ploughed on not noticing that what he said may have been offensive. "I understand your need to protect your group, you're safe here."

Daryl didn't say anything.

"What happened to your ear? We have a medic, you should get it looked at."

"I'm fine," Daryl replied, "but Lori, the pregnant one, maybe she could do with a check up."

"Pregnancy is hardly an army medic's specialism but it couldn't hurt," the sergeant said.

Daryl could tell this guy wasn't going to leave him alone. It was irritating and his automatic response was to verbally lash out so he'd get left. He ignored that though and said, "I'm going to go shower before it gets dark." The answer was gruff but at least it was halfway civil, Daryl smiled wryly to himself, he must be growing as a person.

"Dinner will be served in 30," the sergeant called out.

"I'll let the others know," Daryl replied.

Daryl grabbed his towel and headed to the shower block alone. Thankfully it was empty when he got there. He pulled his poncho, leather vest and cut-off shirt from his body and dumped them on the floor. There was a mirror in there and he caught his eye in it and stopped a moment. He gave himself a long look, body caked in sweat and dirt, jeans and boots filthy with mud, blood and walker brains. He wondered when the last time he looked in a mirror had been, a long time ago, possibly years. His hair was too long, and there were more lines on his face now than he'd had before. He wondered when they had happened, were they a direct result of the apocalypse or had he had them even before then? Even under the grime which had made its way onto his body through layers of clothing he could see the white raised lines that littered his body. They were thin and long on his chest punctuated with the round burns of a cigarette in places, his back was worse, he knew without seeing it to remind himself. They were the reasons he hadn't looked in a mirror for so long. They were why the last mirror he had looked in had ended up smashed to a thousand shards on the floor. He'd cut his hand that day, and that had scarred too, but at least that one had been a reminder of his own stupidity rather than anything worse.

Ignoring the mirror he tugged off his boots and his jeans and stepped into the shower turning the spray on. They had solar heating panels laid out beside the shower tent, but either the panels weren't very good at absorbing energy on a cloudy day or the rest of the group had used all the hot water up. The cold water took Daryl's breath away and he nearly leapt back out. It wasn't long before he'd gotten used to it though, they'd not had hot water for nearly three years as a kid, although eventually he'd given up with showering at home at all and used the showers in his school gym. Merle had always laughed and said it'd make a man out of him, but he'd left for the army by then so never had to live with it himself.

He stood under the water and watched all the grime drain off his body. Stuff dripped out of his hair which ran into the water, turning it a murky brown before flowing into the drain. He found a bar of soap that had been left on a shelf and started scrubbing. He hadn't realised he was so filthy.

He kept scrubbing until his body was pink and raw and then he just stood there until he heard a knock at the door.

"Hey Daryl," Rick's familiar voice called.

"Yeah what?"

And then somehow Rick took that to be an invitation and opened the door. Daryl panicked and grabbed the towel dragging it into the shower with him and wrapping it around his whole body. He'd done it so fast he'd forgotten to turn the water off first and the towel got soaked.

Rick stuck his head round the door and gave Daryl a funny look, Daryl stood under the spray with his sodden towel pulled right up under his armpits. It was barely long enough to cover his junk this way but at least as long as he kept his back to the wall his scars were covered.

"Dinner's being served," Rick said, not questioning the strange behaviour.

"I'll be right there," Daryl promised and glared at Rick until he left.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Daryl was still damp as he got to the mess tent, his towel had been almost useless even after wringing it out first. It was cold and he could see his breath misting in front of him, his feet were still numb and now his filthy clothes were clinging to him uncomfortably. He may have been clean but now he was dressed again he smelt of stale sweat and walker brains again. He wasn't quite sure what his shower had achieved.

The others looked up at him as he entered the mess tent. The tent while small was full of soldiers seated at big long tables, a quick scan and Daryl guessed there were about fifty of them. Two were stood at the far end slopping food from big pots into bowls and handing them to the queue of people who were just tapering off. Sat at one of the trestle tables in the far corner were his little group, huddled together and eating their food greedily. Daryl joined the queue and was handed a bowl. It looked like it was supposed to be chilli con carne on rice except instead of mince it was mostly beans and little bits of tinned hotdog. Daryl shrugged, smelled good and it was better than anything they'd had in a long while. He nodded gratefully at the soldier who was serving it and went to join the others. He sat down at the end of the table next to Rick who gave him a funny look but didn't say anything. He began shovelling food into his mouth, it was spicy and tasted like possibly the best thing he had ever eaten.

The food settled warm and comforting in his stomach and then he was overwhelmed with a need to sleep. He sat listening to the hushed conversation until it began to fade away and he found his head nodding forward. In that space between awake and asleep he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder. It jolted him awake and he stood up and away, grabbing that hand and flinging it off him. He stumbled over the bench they were sat on and only just recovered his footing instead of bumping into a soldier sat behind him.

"Daryl," Rick said in a soft tone, it had been his hand and it hovered between them now like he no longer knew what to do with it. "I'm sorry, I was just going to suggest you get your head down for the night."

Daryl nodded lamely, trying to think up a reason for his reaction that wouldn't make him seem like a pussy. He couldn't find one so he stayed silent.

"I'm thinking of turning in too," Carol said standing. "I'm beat. Walk a lady home?" she smiled.

Daryl regained his composure, "Yeh, I can do that." He put on a slight smile and headed to the opening of the tent, waiting for her to follow him.

"Goodnight everyone," Carol said before following them all out.

They walked across the camp to their tent in silence, when they got there Daryl undid the loops on the old canvas tent and held it open for her.

"Thank you," she said, always polite. She studied him a moment as he followed her in and looped the tent shut again. He shuffled over to his bed, in the corner, as far from everyone else as he could manage. The others had all chosen to sleep close together and away from the ends to better share heat. "Are you okay?" Carol asked finally.

Daryl looked up from where he was sat on his bedroll unlacing his boots. "I'm fine," he said coldly.

"You've not seemed yourself lately," she persevered.

"Really?" His head shot up and he looked at her. "And what is 'myself'? 'Cause I sure as shit don' know anymore. Followin' you lot blindly inter whatever the hell this is…"

"You think we are in danger here?" Carol said, her voice quivery all of a sudden.

"All I know is it don' feel right. An' normally I trust those instincts instead of getting' myself lead into a cage full of armed men."

"You should tell Rick," Carol said.

"He won't listen. Lori doesn't want to leave here and so there won't be no changing his mind."

"Well maybe your instincts are wrong this time. What if this time we've actually found what we were looking for?" Carol said. She'd bounced from one emotion to the next, fear with a quick change around to denial. Daryl saw that in all of them to varying extents, they all believed what they wanted to believe. He was surprised any of them had lasted like that.

Daryl knew what she was talking about, his instincts had told her that he'd find Sophia. He'd been wrong about that why not this? But this was different, his fight or flight reflex was in overdrive even though he couldn't pinpoint why.

"We are cold Daryl, tired and hungry and here we have everything we need. Lori is going to have that baby soon, where do you think she should deliver it? On a bed in a medical tent with medical professionals or in the back of a truck with me and Hershel?" she said, frustrated.

"I'm going to sleep," Daryl said, finishing the argument. He kicked his boots off and pulled the poncho over his head, laying down and pulling the sleeping bag around his clothed body. He lay facing the tent wall ignoring Carol as she huffed in exasperation and started preparing her own bed for the night. Despite his tiredness he lay awake for ages unable to quieten his mind, he heard the others come in in dribs and drabs, say goodnight to each other and settle into sleep. They were a noisy bunch, T-Dog was the first to start snoring but it wasn't long before Rick and to a quieter extent Maggie joined in. There was shuffling and groaning from Lori as she tried to get comfortable on the cold hard floor. His irritation at not being able to sleep manifested in irritation against them, he stuck it out a little longer before dragging his bedroll outside the tent to finish the night alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Daryl strode into the camp the first thing he could hear was arguing. Rick was stood outside their tent with the major who had gone red in the face. Hovering around them were the rest of the group and a few of the soldiers, the sergeant from the previous day included. The soldiers were watching as though they were watching someone take an uncomfortable dressing down but the group of survivors looked angry, and terrified.

Rick was combing a hand through his hair roughly, a telltale sign that his nerves were fraying. "But you can't…" he was shouting. "My wife…"

Daryl wasn't sure how long this had been going on for but clearly long enough for Rick to have lost any ability to construct coherent sentences.

"Hey," Daryl barked abruptly, having all eyes turn on him. It made him instantly uncomfortable but he rolled with it. "You gonna bring ev'ry walker for a country mile come knockin' you keep shoutin' like that." He slung his fresh killed deer off his shoulders into the dirt. It wasn't the biggest deer ever but it was about as big as he could carry and had been really heavy. Blood had dripped from the bolt in his neck and soaked a trail down his shoulder and sleeve.

His audience looked down at the offering and then back up at him. "The major wants us out," Rick said, explaining his exasperation with his hand gestures.

"We do not have the resources to keep you," the major said, Daryl could tell it was not the first time he'd said it this morning either. "I have kept you and fed you one night, I cannot do more."

"Well now I've fed you," said Daryl kicking lightly at the deer at his feet. "So on that we are even."

"Please," Rick begged, he was quieter now, the interruption having brought everything down to a more appropriate volume. "We can be of use, we can use weapons, stand guard, go on supply runs, Daryl here can hunt…"

It didn't seem to make a dent in the major's countenance but then a soldier behind Daryl spoke up. "Sir, if I may," he said timidly, clearly unwilling to get caught up in this. "I have been out with Daryl this morning on his hunt. He's a good tracker."

"Wait, what? You need a tracker? Daryl is an excellent tracker. The best I've ever met." Rick latched onto this.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. This didn't feel right. To have use of a hunter was one thing, but then they'd come out and say that. To need his tracking skills specifically was something else. He doubted they were chasing after little lost girls.

The sergeant stepped forward to join the major then and leaned in to him. "He could give us the advantage we've been looking for. I think we should take the opportunity that has been given to us."

"What do you say Daryl? Will you lend us your skills?"

Daryl frowned. This was weird, being the centre of attention, everyone's eyes on him. He was about to say no, tell them that they'd take their chances but Carol caught his gaze. Her body looked exhausted and her eyes were pleading with him. They all were, Rick looked ready to drop down on his knees and beg, the others watched with an uncertain fear, unsure and unhappy to have their fate in Daryl's hands.

"If I stay to track for you, the whole group stays. You keep them warm and fed and safe and I'll see if I can find what you are looking for," he said in the end. The group let out a collective sigh and Daryl realised bitterly that they'd all been thinking that he would save himself and leave them to get tossed out.

The major looked to be mulling it over. Daryl figured it for a badly put together bluff and wasn't going to fall for it. "Fine," he said. "I don't give a shit, you all know I don't want to be here, with little what's-his-face shadowing my every move," he said shoving a pointed finger in the direction of the soldier who had seen it necessary to baby-sit him on his hunt that morning. "No skin off my nose." He bent back down to lift the deer back up. He had visions of slinging the dead beast back onto his back and striding off although he knew that the thing had been heavy and he'd needed help to get it on his back the first time. He was hoping that a decision would be made before he made a fool of himself struggling with it.

Thankfully just as he was about to attempt to haul it up the major spoke. "Fine."

Daryl stood, hiding his relief. "Good, now what do you need tracked?"

"I would rather we discussed that in private." He gestured to the command tent.

Daryl nearly said no but figured it was better to concede this one, after all he'd just won the big battle. "Rick comes with me," he said.

"Fair enough." The major strode off to the command tent, Sergeant Adewale hot on his heels.

"Thank you," Rick said in a lowered voice as the two survivors followed.

Daryl gave a curt nod. He wasn't sure if Rick should be thanking him just yet, he still didn't feel right about his place and he had a horrible feeling he was about to find out why. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Carol, Maggie and Glenn had gone for the deer, presumably hoping to gut and prepare it in an attempt to show their usefulness to the camp of soldiers.

The sergeant held the tent flap open for them as they followed Major Sanders in. The tent was small, held a table and a pair of chairs, one on either side of it. Draped over the table was a large laminated ordnance survey map which Daryl recognised immediately as North-West Georgia. There were markings on the map in red pen, lines drawn on it, bits crossed out, towns with x's drawn over them. Daryl was about to lament the mess they'd made of it before he realised the pen was the dry-wipe kind so could be gotten rid of if necessary.

The major sat in the far chair, the sergeant stood at ease just inside the door. Daryl reckoned it was bad form to sit on the desk of an army major so that's exactly what he did, perching himself on the corner so he could pour over the map. It left Rick the remaining chair.

Major Sanders bristled at the insubordination but let it slide. Daryl gave Rick a wry grin, knowing that he was winding him up the wrong way. Rick said nothing but Daryl could tell the ex-lawman probably thought he was pushing his luck.

"So who or what do you need tracking?" Rick asked, glancing at the map, and finding where the camp was marked on it, just on the tree line between woodland and farmland.

"We have been looking for someone for some time. We've tracked them to this area but they've gone to ground in these forests. We need to find them, the fate of the world could be at stake."

"How do you mean?" Rick asked.

"We believe this person holds the cure."

"The cure?" Rick asked astonished, "There's a cure to the virus?"

"What I am about to tell you next is likely to shock you. It's why I didn't want to explain this in front of your group… we are all infected."

"We know," Rick said. "We went to the CDC in the summer. There was a scientist there, Edwin Jenner. He said that we all had the virus lying dormant in us."

"The CDC burnt to the ground months ago," the major said, interested.

"We know, the generators ran out of fuel. It self-destructed to prevent anything escaping. We barely got out. One of us decided it would be better to stay," he said forlornly of Jacqui. They'd never even said goodbye to her, as soon as they'd left the CDC the walkers had attacked and they'd lost Sophia and then Carl had been shot. As harsh as it sounded the woman had been forgotten for more pressing issues. Daryl wasn't one for saying goodbye, what was gone was gone but he always felt a little angry for that, for the way Dale had pleaded with Andrea to keep fighting, had told her how much she meant to him, no one had said that to Jacqui, no one had told her that her life meant anything, and so she'd just disappeared.

"And the scientist?"

"He'd been on his own for months, his wife had died of the virus and had been used as a test subject. He had lost hope and felt it best to choose his end."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Major Sanders asked in earnest. It was an odd tone, Daryl didn't trust it.

"Erm, like what?" Rick racked his brain to remember, it had all been a blur of panic and confusion. "He told us how it worked, how the fever takes over and kills off the body but that a part of the brain stays active."

"Did he say anything about a cure?" Sanders said somewhat impatiently.

"What? No, he didn't think there was one. He believed that no one else was left capable of creating one."

The major seemed to breath an almost imperceptible sigh of relief which seemed increasingly odd to Daryl.

"He was mistaken, there are a few left. And this person we want you to track is the answer."

"He's a scientist?" Rick asked.

"No, they're immune."

"What? How?"

"There were antibodies in the blood to fight the virus. We need them back so we can conduct more tests, using their blood to synthesise an antidote."

"How do you know they're immune?" Rick asked suddenly suspicious.

"They were bitten, but they didn't die. The fever took over but they made it through. We were tracking heartbeat, body temp, they were fitted with body trackers. These trackers were fitted with GPS but with the electricity out so are most of the tracking systems so the trackers aren't as accurate as they should be. The tracker is still active and moving but we lost them in the woods and can't get a good enough read."

"And that's why you need me?" Daryl said quietly taking all this information in.

"If you could find them, you could be the man who saves what's left of the world."

"Christ!" Rick put a hand over his mouth and looked to Daryl to see how he was taking it.

Sergeant Adewale laughed nervously in the background. "So no pressure," he joked.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

There was a silence that was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Daryl felt those feelings of claustrophobia come flooding back, it was hard to breathe. He couldn't believe what had just been asked of him, no one had asked anything of him before. How could the fate of the world be in his hands? He'd never been worth anything to anybody before, except maybe to Merle and even then only when he'd needed money or a place to crash. It was too much, he wanted to get out of the tent, out of the whole camp, just take off and not come back. He couldn't do it, he couldn't, there was no way…

"Daryl," Rick said eventually breaking the silence. His voice was soft and gentle, like coaxing a child. Daryl was too panicky to find it condescending. But instead of making a run for it he took a deep breath.

"So where did you loose them?"

Everyone seemed to sigh in relief. Adewale came over to the table and peered over the map. "We were following by helicopter until they ran in there." He pointed to a place on the map. It wasn't too far, back up on the highway where they had come across the soldiers in the first place. We sent a team in after them but we searched a day and had no luck. We'd finished the first part of our search grid when we came across your group."

"So how many days have they been missing?"

"About forty-eight hours now."

"There's been a lot of rain," Daryl mentioned. "And your guys trampling all through the place won't have helped."

The two soldiers ignored the admonishment.

"You got anyone with any kind of tracking skills here?"

"Some basic bush craft," the sergeant spoke up, "but no specialists. Most of us have spent our tours in Afghanistan."

"Okay, we'll use your existing search grids but I want to go in first, see if I can find some trace that you haven't completely been destroyed. If I can you guys back off and let me work, I don't want you wrecking anything. If not then we split and do the grids, I'll head down here," he pointed to a dip in the contour lines. If they've any sense they'll be looking for water, follow the creek. Even if they haven't got a clue they'd want to take the easiest path, that means downhill rather than uphill, and then once the ground levels out they'd follow the creek."

"We checked the creek yesterday, we didn't find anything."

"How far did you get?"

Sergeant Adewale pointed.

Daryl nodded, "Well that's a fair amount of ground, but it's a big area."

"Okay, I'll get my teams together, I'll go with you."

"I work better alone."

"Well I'm sure you can see why we wouldn't want you off by yourself."

"I'll take Rick."

"You can have Rick but you're not getting rid of me that easy."

Daryl bit his tongue to prevent himself from snapping out a sarky comment. "Fine," he said instead.

"You got walkies?" Rick asked.

"Nothing fancy, but we have enough to go round."

"It's a big area. If I get on a trail it will be quicker to camp out," Daryl said.

"We'll take enough kit. When do you want to head out?"

"We've lost a lot of daylight today," the major cut in. "You should head out first light tomorrow."

Daryl nodded his agreement. That seemed to be it settled then, Major Sanders stood up and nodded to them. Adewale smiled at them and held the tent flap back open for them, a sure signal that they were no longer wanted in the tent. Rick and Daryl took the hint and left. Adewale followed them out and walked them back to the rest of the group, the majority of which were stood around the fire.

"Thank you for your help," the sergeant said. "We really are grateful for any help you can give," he said and then veered off to speak to some of his men.

Rick, with Daryl a step or two behind, strode up to the group. "We need to talk," he said looking round the group. The Greenes, T-Dog and Carl were stood round the fire.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

"Lori went for a lie down, Glenn and Carol are skinning the deer," Maggie said. "I'll go get them." She jumped up from the log she'd been sat on and ran off to the fence where they had taken the deer.

The rest of them entered the tent. Lori sat up as they came in, "Everything okay?" she asked Rick. He smiled at her but didn't say anything.

Once everyone came in, Carol and Glenn came last, wiping their hands on clothes that they had been given, now covered in blood. Carol was almost up to get elbows in it, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up. It was a gruesome sight but she didn't seem bothered.

"What have they said?" she asked Daryl as she took a seat next to Lori on the other woman's bed.

Rick took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair before placing both hands on his hips, studying at his group. Daryl stood in the corner of the tent, behind Rick, close to the exit. He'd folded his arms over his chest. He was glad he wasn't having to share what they'd just been told.

"They want us to search for someone they believe holds the cure," Rick said.

There was a collective gasp from the audience.

"They found someone who holds an immunity. They think if they can get hold of them they can make an antidote."

"Are you serious?" Glenn said. "That's crazy… that's…" he stammered.

"Yeah," Rick agreed, "Unreal right?"

"So why are we having to chase this person?" Lori asked, ever the sceptic.

"He's run off, gone to ground. They've been tracking him and know he's in these woods but they don't have the tracking skills Daryl has so they need our help. Daryl and I are leaving at first light."

It had cheered most of the group up, the possibility of a cure had taken a weight off most of their minds. There was finally an end in sight however far off they knew it could be. It had brought their energy back in a way that even a proper meal and a warm bed had not managed the night before. They talked and joked all through dinner and then spent a great part of the evening huddled round the fire. Hershel had borrowed a pack of cards from someone and T-Dog was teaching Beth and Carl the finer points of Texas Hold-Em.

Daryl couldn't stand it. He'd spoken again to the major and had been allowed use of the command tent. He'd taken his bowl of venison stew in there and was now sat at the table pouring over the map by candlelight while he took a cleaning rag to his crossbow.

He suddenly felt a slim hand come down on his shoulder and he flinched. He spun around and saw that it was only Carol, carrying a pair of tin mugs in one hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, holding out one of the mugs. "I… it's just you usually hear me coming."

Daryl shrugged and gestured to his damaged ear. Hershel had redressed the wound with a neat white piece of gauze. He took one of the mugs and took a sip. Strong black coffee with a couple of sugars, just how he liked it.

"Thank you," he said.

"You okay?" Carol asked.

Daryl sighed. "I know these woods, I've spent years in them," he said.

Carol looked down at the map and perched on the table edge. He looked back up at Daryl. "That's not the answer to my question," she pointed out. "You've still got a bad feeling?"

"It's a lot of ground to cover, it's rained, a lot, and they've probably traipsed through damaging any clues I may have had." He paused. She looked at him, waiting. He had no idea what it was about her that made him talk. "Christ, I couldn't find Sophia in time, now they tell me that the whole world depends on me finding this person. And he doesn't want to be found. And that worries me too, why not? Why run away if you could help?"

Carol put a hand back on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "I believe in you. We all believe in you."

Daryl shook his head, "You believed I'd find Sophia."

Carol smiled wistfully. Daryl hated himself for bringing it up. He knew that those wounds were still so raw.

Carol sniffed with a shake of her head as though she was trying to shake off her sorrow. "You did everything in your power for my little girl. I know you'll do the same again."

She stood up and straightened, her back popping slightly. "You should get some rest," she suggested. "Come on," she took his hand and dragged him to his feet. Daryl let her. "You've got an early start tomorrow." Their hands broke away from each other as they left the tent and walked back to their sleeping quarters in comfortable silence.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

So far the bad weather had held off. Daryl crouched down at the roadside, searching for clues. He could feel Rick, Adewale and the other soldiers staring at the back of him as he did so. It was off-putting to say the least and he was trying hard not to be more rude. At first Adewale had tried to talk to him but he had been told in no uncertain terms to 'piss off' and so now he was stood at the back with Rick watching the man work.

"All your guys got boots on?" Daryl said eventually.

"Yeah, why?"

"This is a pair of sneakers," he said pointing to a dip in the mud. It had been covered over by some ferns so had avoided some of the rain. Even still, there was barely anything there just the toe left.

"You're good man!" Adewale said, clapping him on the shoulder. Daryl flinched at the touch but Adewale didn't notice.

Daryl took off, staying low to the ground so he could see any signs. It was hard, there were footprints everywhere but they all seemed to be heavy duty army boots. Daryl looked at where he expected the next one in relation to the first. He couldn't find it but he walked on a few paces and still couldn't find anything. Daryl stopped and looked back, thinking back to what he'd said earlier about following the contours. Standing back at the initial print he looked at the slope of the land. He knew which way he'd run, as far from the road as possible and ever so slightly downhill and followed that line. After a few steps he found another print, the first one had been a slip causing the angle to look wrong.

He followed it on as he found a few more he strode through the forest with a lot more confidence. The further they got from the road the soldiers footprints thinned too and that made it easier. Rick and Adewale were creeping along after him, the soldiers had been left at the roadside awaiting further instruction. After a couple of hours they hit the creek and as expected the tracks followed along the creek for some time.

As they went Daryl pointed his observations out, the point where they had stopped running and slowed to a light jog, then a walk. Where they had stopped to take a drink from the creek and later on where they had climbed a tree. There had been no walker prints so Daryl figured that they'd chosen to sleep in a tree, it had big enough branches that it would have been possible. But there were other things of note that Daryl was keeping to himself.

By the time night was falling they'd come far beyond where the army had searched. It was only when they lost the light that Daryl took more than a five minute rest. The sergeant had been handing out granola bars throughout the day, having skipped breakfast and lunch, Daryl had barely eaten though. They'd been used to skipping meals on the road, especially when he was out hunting and didn't even notice hunger anymore. Rick though, unused to the long days had wolfed them down and was enthusiastically pulling out MRE's from a backpack while the sergeant started a small fire. Daryl was still checking the next part of the route and had to be asked to come and eat when they were done heating it.

"They've gone up the slope from here," Daryl said as he sat down.

"Why would they do that?" Adewale said, "Doesn't following the creek make more sense?"

Daryl shrugged, "I guess we will see in the morning." He shrugged off his crossbow and set it down before he pulled his backpack from his back and shook out the bivouac. He put it up quickly with the speed of someone who knew what they were doing, strapping the sheeting between a pair of trees with a few bungee cords. He sat down and picked up his mess tin. They ate quietly, they'd pushed hard all day and were all tired. Daryl spent it lost in thought. By the time they had finished eating it had gone completely dark and the other two had to pitch their bivouacs in the dark. Daryl sat tucked into his feeling somewhat smug. Rather than stay up chatting they all decided that although early they were ready for bed. Adewale volunteered for first watch.

Daryl settled down in his sleeping bag and looked over at Rick who wasn't too far away. The former sheriff's deputy was struggling with his sleeping bag which he'd managed to get twisted round himself.

"You're not a camper are you?" Daryl said teasing slightly.

"I used to go camping with Carl," Rick said, finally getting settled and lying down. "But the last few years, we were short staffed, I ended up at work a lot more than I should have been."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, think Carl has had enough camping to last him a while now."

Rick grimaced, "You're probably right." He lowered his voice, "You really think this guy we are looking for is the answer?"

Daryl glanced over at Adewale who was sat some meters away from their little camp. "Well I know it's not a guy we are looking for."

"Wait, what?" Rick questioned.

Daryl nodded. "The sneakers are too small, the indentations shallow. We are chasing a girl. She's good, fast and seems to have some idea of what she is doing. Now what worries me is why she'd run."

"Shit," Rick cursed softly. "Why would they keep that from us?"

"Whatever, I figure it don't matter anyways. Not if what they are saying is true and she's the answer. But she's put her all into getting away and that concerns me."

Rick glanced over to Adewale. "You think we can trust him?"

"No," Daryl said simply.

"Then we'd better be very careful," Rick concluded.

Daryl had nothing to say to that, he rolled over and tried to get some sleep.

Daryl was deep asleep for the first time in days, possibly weeks. But that wasn't to last as Rick shouting his name woke him up. His head shot up from the sleeping bag. It took him a second to make sure he wasn't dreaming but then Rick yelled again, "Daryl! Walkers!"

And then he was awake, up and out of his sleeping bag in seconds, grabbing his boots and shoving his feet into them. He searched for his crossbow but he'd slept with it right by his head. He jumped up, grabbing the bow which had already been loaded. He had a quiver too and slung that over his head and shoulder while he pulled the crossbow into his shoulder. The pistol he'd stuffed into the bottom of his sleeping back was the last, getting tucked into the waistband of his jeans, the knife, he'd slept with that still strapped.

Rick was up ahead a few paces standing in the dark, his shotgun aimed up ahead, he pumped it and shot into the forest, pumped it and shot again. As Daryl's eyes adjusted to the dark he could see the walkers come out of the forest. Beside Daryl the sergeant was pulling himself up and into his boots.

Daryl joined Rick, crossbow raised high, "Fuck, that's a lot of them!" he cursed. They were coming out of the darkness in a big herd. Had to be twenty to thirty of them. Daryl aimed his crossbow and fired a bolt. It entered straight through the nearest one's head going straight through the decaying skull and lodging itself there. The zombie fell back onto another one behind it who groaned as it hit the floor and struggled to heave the body off it.

"There are too many, we need to run," Adewale said, joining them and sending a spray of bullets from his assault rifle at their heads. Some went down but still more were coming.

"Ya think?" Daryl said angrily, loading his bow and firing another bolt.

Rick turned tail and ran, following the creek bed. He sprinted a distance and turned to check on the other two, aiming his shotgun and picking off walkers. He found that Adewale was right behind him but Daryl had taken the time to load the next bolt and fire it. The walkers were nearly upon him before he turned, slung his crossbow onto his back and sprinted after the other two.

Daryl was hot on the heels of the others, but it burned. The cop and the army guy had obviously had to do a bit of running in their time, Daryl figured Rick had been one of those up at five am to get in a five k run before breakfast types, he'd probably done some sort of sport at high school. Daryl reckoned he could outlast them both on a hunt, but on a sprint was a different story. It seemed Daryl only ever ran when he was running for his life. Right now his lungs were raw and his crossbow was bashing into his spine with every step. His knife at his hip was heavy and slapped against his leg, tugging on his belt and threatening to pull his jeans down. His feet, usually so sure, slipped in the mud and then he was down. He landed heavily on his chest, barely getting his arms out in front of him to break the fall. He pushed himself back up again to his feet, ignoring the fact he'd knocked the wind out of himself, slid a bit but pushed on. Rick had turned back, having heard him fall and shouted his name. Rick loaded his shotgun and fired off another couple of shells before pulling his pistol.

Fed up with this Daryl turned drawing his knife. There was a walker right behind him but he slid the knife into the walker's face with practised ease. The next one, coming up on his right, he slashed at. The knife went cleanly through the walker's neck, taking its head completely off its shoulders. Daryl leapt forward, taking the fight to the next one, gripping the knife as he plunged it down into its skull. Daryl could hear shots echoing through the darkness, knew Rick had his back but paid little attention as he focused on the next kill.

Having dispatched the nearest ones he switched his knife for his pistol and started taking potshots at them. He carried on until his entire clip was gone. By that time he realised the remaining ones had been taken out by the other two. They were back to being alone in the forest again, a trail of bodies between them and camp.

Rick came up to Daryl and gave him a quick glance over. "You alright?"

"Get me up in the middle of the night to go running? Fuck that shit," he replied and trudged off in the direction of camp.

Rick and the sergeant caught him up.

"You know you two are pretty impressive," Adewale said.

Daryl just grunted and Rick ignored him. It was obvious that neither were in the mood for small talk so they fell back into a silence as they walked the creek to get back to their camp. Daryl hurt more than he wanted to admit, he just wanted to get back to camp, pack up and get on with the day. There'd be no going back to bed now after that.

They'd run further than he'd thought and it took them a while to find their camp again. When they finally got back to it they realised it was a mess. The walkers had torn through it, Daryl's tarp had come down, as had Rick's which had been ripped right through the middle. Sleeping areas had been trampled on and their little fire pit from the night before was scattered everywhere. But then Daryl noticed which direction they had all come from and cursed. He stepped up to the where the first walkers had fallen and checked the ground intently.

"They've only gone and torn right through our trail!" he grunted and kicked out at the nearest tree. It was a stupid response and he hurt his foot but he wasn't going to let the others know that. Trying not to limp from the throbbing he stormed back down to the damaged camp and sat down. Rick crouched beside him, his own bed completely destroyed and started to gather the scattered wood together again for another fire. Daryl reckoned on them having about two more hours until dawn, none of them would be sleeping now.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It had taken them a while to get going because the walker herd had come right through the trail but once he'd picked up her trail again it was easy. There had been no rain since these tracks were made so there were shallow imprints of those same sneakers, small and worn heading up the slope and away from the creek. After that, the path was really clear to the hunter and he could follow it without thinking.

The problem was that left his mind to think of other things, not least what the major had said back at the camp. Could this girl really be the answer? He'd resigned himself to becoming a walker one way or another. One of the good reasons for keeping his distance from the rest of the group was that they'd have little trouble with putting a bullet between his eyes, hell the group had shot him once already. He'd had nightmares about coming back and tearing into them, ripping Rick or Lori or Carol to pieces. He hoped that when his time came he'd have the wherewithal to put a bullet in his own brain and save them the trouble. How strong would an antidote be? Would it save you even if you were bit or would it just save you from rising again? Either way it wouldn't be a quick fix, they'd have to create enough of it and roll it out to a whole world of people most of whom were hiding and unaware of an antidote, clear out the remaining walkers and then they could begin to rebuild. It may not be anything that was achievable in Daryl's lifetime, but what about Carl's or the child that Lori was carrying? He knew it was mean to call it Shane Jr in his head but sometimes he couldn't help himself.

It was a huge responsibility, finding this girl. True, right now he was sure of his skills but if it rained again or she circled back round to the highway then the odds would be against him. He'd had a lot of talks on responsibility throughout his life, teachers, his dad, the sheriff that time he and Merle had ended up spending the night in jail after another bar fight, bail bondsmen every time he scraped his earnings together to go and rescue his idiot brother. He'd never learn, he'd end up in another brawl or Merle would go and do something stupid again while he was supposed to be keeping an eye on him. He'd come to the conclusion early on, and he had the scars to prove it, that he wasn't responsible and would likely never be. So how on earth did this fall to him? Were there not people who tracked in the army? Did none of those guys back at camp hunt? As far as Daryl could see entrusting the fate of the world to his hands was about the stupidest decision made ever.

He glanced over at Rick who was trudging along beside him. The man, who had been in a near constant state of agitation since the day they'd met now seemed calm and determined. He was a good leader, Daryl couldn't imagine following anyone else, but the whole group could see him cracking under that weight. Right now he just had a task to follow, a goal to achieve and could leave all the planning and decisions to Daryl. The hunter wondered, if roles had been reversed just how long it would've taken for him to explode.

The thing about Rick was that until recently he'd lived in a very ordered world of black and white, with the authorities as the good guys and the bad guys were, well people like Daryl and his brother. Daryl only ever saw grey. And while Rick seemed to be content to follow orders on this one he couldn't shake his doubt. There were bits about this that didn't make sense. If this girl was immune then how did they find her in the first place? If all they needed was her blood then why didn't she just give them some, giving blood was easy enough? Why had they been so cagey, leading them to believe they would be hunting a guy? Silly assumption, Daryl figured, but when they'd been using the pronoun 'he' no one had stepped up to correct them.

These thoughts rolled around in Daryl's head all day. By early afternoon he'd realised where he'd find her. If the tracks stayed on this course they'd come across an old hunting cabin he'd found once. With it being winter she should be able to see it through the bare trees even if she hadn't been looking for it. He kept it to himself though, not yet sure if he trusted their sergeant tag-a-long. He even considered veering them off course, leading them away from this girl but there was no sane reason other than his gut instinct to do that. The fate of the world, he had to remember, rested on him finding her.

It was getting dark again as they neared the cabin though and the sergeant suggested they stop for the night. It was then he chose to speak up although two could play the silence game. "No, I think I know where she is, it's not far."

"And where is that?" Sergeant Adewale asked.

Daryl stayed silent and carried on.

This made the sergeant irritated and he pulled the map from his pocket. "Where?"

Rick held up a hand to stop him. "Let Daryl do his job," he suggested calmly.

Another thirty minutes on and they could start to see the cabin up ahead in the gloom. There were no lights on but that didn't mean much, maybe the oil lamp had burned down or maybe she just knew she was being hunted and didn't want to give herself away. Hunted was an odd word to use, Daryl realised, he'd never hunted always tracked Sophia, but with this girl 'hunted' felt right.

"Up there?" the sergeant asked, his voice low so as not to carry.

"Wouldn't you?" Daryl replied. "Let me and Rick go on ahead."

"What? Why?"

"Because I know you've had your guys tailing us since we started and I don't want them scaring her off."

Rick halted at this and spun round back and forth, looking for signs of the other soldiers and clearly coming up short. He turned to Daryl with a questioning glance.

"Okay," the Sergeant conceded. "I'll keep them back but as soon as you've secured her you give us a shout."

Daryl nodded and took off slowly towards the cabin. Rick took a moment to process the new developments and then jogged a few steps to catch up.

"How did you see those guys? I had no idea they were following us."

Daryl gave a grim smile, "I didn't, I guessed. There's something not right about this and they don't trust us. They're not going to stack the odds two against one."

Rick nodded, suddenly appearing a lot less comfortable with the situation.

They walked up to the cabin quietly but with their weapons lowered to appear less threatening. "Hello," Rick called out softly. "We are just looking for somewhere to stay the night. Is there anyone in here?" Rick frowned at the lie, he never used to lie, glancing at Daryl for his reaction. But Daryl ignored it and nodded at the window where the was the slightest of twitches of tatty curtain at the window.

Rick saw it and used a few quick hand movements to indicate to Daryl what the plan was. It made more sense for Rick to enter first, he had a calming effect on people that Daryl certainly didn't. Daryl went round to the back where there was a rear door and waited, keeping one eye on the undergrowth where he knew soldiers were ready to spring.

He could hear Rick knocking at the door gently before pushing it open with a loud creak on rusty hinges. "Hello," he called, "did I see someone in here? We are not going to hurt you."

Daryl was just thinking how that might be a huge lie when the back door burst open and a bloodstained girl fled out colliding with him and knocking them both to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively and he held her tight to his chest as the girl struggled and screamed. "They'll kill me, they'll kill me!"

Daryl gripped her tighter as she tried to fight him off. He held her close, wrapping an arm across her back and stroking her hair to calm her, while refusing to release his grip. Once she began to lose the fight in her he cupped her chin gently and took a proper look at her. She was reasonably tall but was stick thin and clearly malnourished and so Daryl had no idea whether she was in her teens or her twenties. Blood matted her long dark hair that had clearly not been looked after in a really long time, her skin was sickly pale and clammy. She had on jeans, sneakers and a tee shirt that was soaked in blood from a wound at her neck. The wound he realised with horror was a bite mark, but she wasn't feverish, she was cold.

"You're not with them?" she asked confused.

Rick came up behind them as Daryl shook his head, "With who?"

But there was no pretending anymore as the soldiers leapt up out of the trees and raced towards them. Daryl gripped her tighter, unwilling suddenly to let her go. Her heart was pounding against his chest and tears soaked his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her over and over. "I'm sorry."

As the men came out of the trees Daryl watched in horror as the men raised their assault rifles. He gripped her tightly and closed his eyes. The short sharp spray of bullets entered her head and shattered it, spraying Daryl with warm gushing blood and brain. Bone fragments peppered his face, some piercing skin and entering his cheek and forehead. He heard Rick scream his name but the sound seemed far away and disconnected. He was stunned a moment but recovery was quick, he wanted to give in to the adrenaline that was coursing through his body, wanted to jump up screaming, grab his knife and tear the throat out of every last one of them. But he didn't. He lay still, blood-covered head lolling to one side, even when he heard another shot and a thud as a body hit the ground. He knew it was Rick, it had to be. There was no way anybody was going to be left alive now.

Someone kicked him, it hurt but he laid still, a dead weight for that was what he was supposed to be. They muttered something and then he heard Sergeant Adewale give the order, "Well done boys, leave them here for geek-food. We'd better get back."

Daryl listened hard as they took off back into the trees. And then he waited, and waited. When he was sure that they were gone he opened his eyes slowly. Blood had gotten into his eyes and he had to wipe them with his hand so he could see. He could make out Rick's body, slumped against the wall of the cabin, blood soaking his clothes from a ragged hole in his chest.

The girl's body still weighed heavy on him. He turned his face towards hers as he pushed her off and the sight of it make him want to be sick. She had very little in the way of a head left, what was there was dripping slowly from the jagged edges of what remained of her skull and landing in fat glutinous drops on Daryl's shoulder. That was enough, he rolled her body off him and scrabbled to his knees before heaving. He vomited into the grass until there was nothing left but bile.

Taking big gasping breaths he tried to steady himself. He got to his feet and stumbled over to Rick where he knelt down by his side.

"Oh God, Rick," he whispered, his hands shaking as he checked the police officer's pulse.

As his fingers touched Rick's eyes shot open. He took in the sight of Daryl so close and screamed and pushed him away. Daryl fell back his heels with shock rather than the weakened shove that Rick had given him and gasped in disbelief. Rick was in a panic, scrabbling to get his feet under him without the strength to achieve it.

"Rick, Rick it's me." Daryl recovered and came closer to him. Grabbing his arms and holding him still. "Stop, shh, it's me, Daryl."

Rick stopped struggling and looked at him, closer. His chest was heaving but as the initial panic had subsided it appeared to be more from pain than from fear.

"You're alive?" Rick whispered through wheezing gasps.

"I could say the same about you," Daryl countered.

"But your face."

"It's her's." Daryl wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. It didn't help, just smeared it around a bit and dragged on all the little bone splinters that were embedded, blood welled up from a particularly deep one and ran down his chin. "I need to have a look at you." Daryl pulled open Rick's jacket and shirt to look at the wound. He pulled out the red rag he kept in his back pocket. Wiping the blood away he could now see how Rick was still breathing. The bullet had entered higher than Daryl had originally thought tearing through his pectoral, too high to hit his heart and possibly too high to hit a lung too. Daryl ran a hand over Rick's shoulder to check his back, the bullet had gone straight through.

"We are gonna need Hershel, but you were lucky," Daryl summarised. "Whoever shot you wasn't a great shot."

"It was Adewale," Rick said. "He gave me this look before he did it, like he missed on purpose."

"Not sure it makes me like him any better," Daryl said. "I'm worried about the others and what happens when these guys get back."

Rick jolted forward and tried to reach for his backpack which had been left abandoned a few feet away from where he fell.

"Here," Daryl rested a hand on his knee getting him to stop and lay back. "Let me." He grabbed the bag and dragged it over. He unzipped it and stared inside. At first he was unsure of what he was looking for but then he found it. A huge grin cracked on his face as he dragged the walkie talkie from the bag.

"Just in case." Rick smiled.

"You know I could kiss you right now!" Daryl laughed.

Rick looked at his face covered in grime and bodily fluids, "Please don't!"

"Is it tuned to their channel?" Daryl asked.

Rick nodded, "I gave the other one to Glenn, checked in with him last night and again a few hours ago."

Daryl turned it on and pressed the button. "Glenn? Glenn are you there?"

There was an agonising moment where they both waited and nothing happened. Daryl could hear his heart beating in his chest while he waited and expected Rick's was doing the same. Then there was a crackling and a voice came on the air. "Daryl is that you? Are you okay? Is Rick alright? Did you find him?"

"Glenn listen to me. I need you all to get out of there now. Take the cars, take what you can but you need to get out. And expect some resistance."

"Shit, what happened?" Glenn's voice came panicky over the radio.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Good Lord! Just do what I say will ya? Keep this on I'll tell you the plan once you get outta there."

Daryl put the radio back down ignoring it. He could hear that Glenn was asking more questions but if he stayed to answer them then they weren't getting out of there.

Rick sank back against the wall and sighed. "We are going to be okay," he whispered.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Daryl sat on the steps of the cabin, absently picking pieces of bone fragment out of his face. He kept thinking that he'd gotten it all out but then he'd find another. Without a mirror he'd never get all of it and there wasn't one at the cabin. He looked out along the dirt track that lead winding through the trees to the highway. They should have been there by now, Daryl worried.

Rick and Daryl had listened with bated breath to the radio willing someone to come on and tell them what was happening. Eventually Maggie's voice had come on and they'd both released breaths they hadn't known they were holding. She'd told them they were all out and on their way. Daryl had finally told her what had happened and then had made her get the map out of the glove box and directed her to them. That had been a while ago and Daryl had been sat on the steps looking for them since.

Night had gone and they were into a cloudy dawn before Daryl finally saw his truck come through the trees. He leapt to his feet and tucked inside the cabin.

"They're here," he told Rick who was laid on the single bed. Daryl had found a first aid kit and had cleaned and dressed his wound before placing the arm in a sling and wrapping him in blankets and sleeping bags.

"You did good Daryl." Rick smiled, exhausted from blood loss.

Daryl ran back out to hail the truck down. They pulled up and Carol leapt out of the driving seat, quickly followed by Maggie and Hershel.

"Oh my God!" Carol gasped at the sight of Daryl who still hadn't been able to wash his face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, where are the others?"

"Glenn and T-Dog are taking them off the highway like you suggested," Maggie said.

"Good, Rick is inside."

Hershel and Maggie rushed past him and headed indoors. Daryl followed them up and leaned against the doorjamb to watch them work. Hershel and Maggie were sat with Rick on the bed, who had sat up and shuffled up against the wall.

Daryl watched Hershel long enough to satisfy himself that Rick was going to be alright before heading back outside and grabbing a shovel. He grabbed it and headed out to the back of the cabin where he started digging a hole. He was aware that Carol had sat on the step watching him as he worked but neither said anything.

It took him an hour to dig the hole. About the same time as it took Hershel to do what he had to do. Eventually Rick came out and watched Daryl work.

"I thought we burned the dead," Rick said quietly, throwing back Daryl's words from ages ago.

Daryl just turned and looked at him and the look was heartbreaking. Shaking it away he turned back to his task. Daryl crouched by the girl and placed his arms under her shoulders and under her knees and picked her up. He heard a noise and realised that all the others were watching him now.

She was so light, like she'd been starved, just skin and bones. As he got closer to her he saw things he hadn't noticed before. The bite mark on her neck wasn't the only mark, she had teeth marks on her hand and he saw another on her stomach as her tee shirt lifted. It made him sick. She still had an IV port in her hand and Daryl wondered just what they'd been giving her.

He placed her into the grave and stepped out and stood on the edge. Rick came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"They did this to her," Daryl said gruffly in a quiet voice. "They tortured her, had her bitten just to check she could heal…" There was a lump in his throat. Rick squeezed his shoulder but didn't let go. "She'd escaped, she got away… and I lead them straight to her."

"You cannot blame yourself for this," Rick said firmly and quietly. "You did what you had to do, you thought you were saving the world."

"Should've known…"

"You couldn't have known." Rick kept his hand on Daryl's shoulder. Rick's voice wavered, his eyes were welling up at the dead girl with no face left and the broken man who was burying her. They stood together in silence a moment before Rick's hand drifted away and he turned to go. Hershel came forward to support him walking back to the car, followed by Maggie and Carol.

Daryl took a deep breath and picked up his shovel, filling in the hole. When he was done he took a deep breath and joined the others, climbing into the back of the flatbed. As they drove away he looked back and wondered if the fate of the world was to end in an unmarked grave. Perhaps the best that could be hoped for was that when the time came there'd be somebody left to bury you. As they got back towards the highway the other vehicles came out of hiding. The young Korean wound the window down with a relieved smile on his face, and greeted him warmly. Carl and Lori were in the back and they paused long enough for Rick to gingerly climb out of the truck and into the back of the car with his family. As he did, Rick turned to Daryl and gave him a wan smile and mouthed a 'thank you'. Daryl gave him a curt nod, feeling for perhaps the first time, that when his end came, he wouldn't be alone.

* * *

Authors Note: Well that's it, all done. I just want to thank you all for reading and for my few but faithful reviewers, it's always good to know that your work is appreciated. Also, huge thank you to The Childlike Alchemist for proofreading this and for drawing my cute little cartoon Daryls.

Until next time,

Dancing In The Dark


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